The Gift
by Radiator
Summary: His father informed him there was someone waiting for him in his room, a gift of sorts. Slave AU.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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Taking over the company was proving to not be as hard as he had thought it would be. Alfred's father had always been pretty strict about how everything was done, and Alfred was doing his best to run it as closely to his father's standards. He'd been running the business all on his own, only for about a week now, and was starting to feel the strain of it, but he was doing his best. Tonight there had been a big dinner, and Alfred had been glad to get away from it, he'd only listened half heartedly as his father informed him there was someone waiting for him in his room, a gift of sorts, so when he opened the door, already pulled his tie loose from where he was nearly strangling him, he was rather surprised to find someone actually waiting for him.

So here he was. On his knees on a stranger's bed. Wrists bound with a ribbon that he was not allowed to remove. But this had been a long time coming. Ever since he had been sold off, he'd been told that he was property from that point on. He'd been so prideful once. That had been the first thing stripped from him. No one wanted a prideful slave. The brand was still fresh across his shoulder blade, but since Arthur wasn't wearing anything, he at least had nothing to put pressure on the burn. He didn't know what to feel at this moment. Anger seemed pointless. So did self-pity. He just felt… hallow. And a bit apprehensive. He had been put through everything during his training, the roughest training legal so that he would be able to withstand whatever his new owner would expect of him. But being prepared didn't mean that he looked forward to it though. As the door creaked open, he glanced up, just over his eyelashes so that he would not raise his eyes, to see the young man that he assumed was his new owner. He looked strangely surprised. So… he was a gift then. He wasn't sure if that was better or worse. He shifted, lowering himself submissively, as he had been taught to do when a superior entered the room. Which meant when anyone entered the room.

Alfred hesitated for a moment, before he moved further into the room, dropping his coat and hat onto one of the side chairs, before he went to the edge of the bed. He had to admit, his father was flashy. Tilting his head a bit, he stared at the young man on his bed, he could see the shiny red of blistered skin where the slave had been recently branded. Didn't need to get on to know what the brand was of. Clucking his tongue, Al lifted his leg up to rest it on the bed so he could lean a bit closer, reaching down to grasp the man's chin and tilt his face up to get a better look at him. Alfred had never professed much interest in personal slaves before, he'd always been far more consumed with his studies and social life to think much on them. But his father had always had good taste, and Alfred wasn't disappointed. "Not the type of gift I'd expected." He stated offhandedly, pulling his hand back, and moving back off the bed. Alfred slid off his glasses, setting them on the table by the bed, "You may sit up." He finished pulling his tie off, watching the blond on the bed observantly, trying to decide what it was he wanted to do.

He didn't dare look the man in the eye, even as the other tilted his head up by the chin. He averted his eyes to the side instead, where it was safer. He was being summed up, judged for worthiness. He hoped he made the cut… He'd already been branded. If he went back to the slave keeper, he would officially be used. Used slaves ended up getting sold off cheaply to low lifes. Used in shows or simply for breeding. The type of seedy thing that wasn't talked about in the sort of place he was in now. At least, he hoped that was the case. It would be really bad luck if he ended up getting sold to high level customers who ended up being seedy anyway.

This man, the new master, did not seem to be particularly interested in him. Almost bored. Arthur humbly rose back up to his knees when told to, and kept his face lowered. He did not want to be passed back. Not so soon after being sold. His only purpose was to please his owner, and if he failed in that after just a night, then he would be doomed to being resold, a failure even as a toy. He cast his eyes lowly to follow the other's movements. Following his training, he spread his legs a bit, perhaps to intrigue his master and show that he knew his purpose well. His bound hands, pressing close to his chest and removing all obstruction that would block his lower half from sight.

He didn't miss the way the slave's eyes followed him, or the way he moved, purposefully enticing. Alfred toed off his shoes, and unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt, undoing the clasps at his wrists and rolling his sleeves up to the elbow as if he were getting ready to take apart an engine. His gaze drifted momentarilty to the night table he'd placed his glasses on, a bottle that hadn't been there when he'd left the room this morning sitting nonchalantly beside the lamp, he nearly laughed. Alfred picked up the bottle, and popped it open, pouring some of the cool sweet smelling oil onto his hand, before setting it back down.

Resting his knee on the bed again, he rubbed his hands together, and let his eyes slid over the slave appreciatively. In truth, Alfred was tired and could have easily just gone to sleep, but it was such a waste to not at least give the creature on his bed a spin. He wouldn't be surprised if the slave was already prepared, but better safe then sorry, so as he leaned closer, one hand reaching down to take a loose hold of the slave's cock, the other hand slid around him, tracing from his hip to the small of his back, "Do you have a name?"

He heard a bottle snap open and chanced a glance upwards, for a fraction of the second, and saw the familiar label in the man's hand. He was grateful for it in multiple ways. Firstly, it meant the man was at least going to give him a try. Secondly, it seemed that this man was the type to bother with lubrication and preparing. Not all masters did. Arthur had been taken enough times without such kindness to be accustomed to enduring it, but it was doubtlessly better with the aid of lube. He tensed just slightly as the man leaned upon the bed again, but as soon as the hand took hold of his member, he relaxed, programmed to so in order to ease the action, and gave a little gasp. He leaned back, displaying more of himself, and began to moan, his hips thrusting up shallowly. His voice was timid and humble as he stuttered out an answer. "Ar…. Arthur, sir…."

He offered a smile, something genuine, though small. He'd never been good at names, so knowing the slave had one, and gave it made things easier. Alfred gave a soft nod, but didn't say anything else, as he slid his other hand down, letting his fingers slide along the crack of _Arthur's_ ass, before spreading his cheeks and probing at his entrance. He watched the other closely, slipping a finger inside as far as it would go, pressing against the walls of Arthur's asshole, his other hand releasing the slave's dick, instead resting on his thigh, idly rubbing circles against his skin with his thumb. Alfred knew that personal slaves were more often then not trained to react like this, to be ready at a moments notice for sex, and could behave in any way that their owner wanted them too. But Arthur was newly bought, so his reactions were not adapted yet, and there was something interesting seeing that, in wondering how the other's behavior would change in time.

Alfred pulled his hands away, reaching up to unwrap the ribbons holding the slave's hands together. He fingered the deep green ribbon, noting that it matched the slave's eyes quite well before dropping it. Pulling away a bit, Alfred wiped his oil slick hands on his slacks, knowing he'd have to oil them again to really prepare the slave, "Alright, Arthur." Alfred stood up, and motioned for the slave to come to the edge of the bed, "Help me undress."

He was quick to get hard. Years of conditioning will do that. With just a few more strokes from his new master, and the added sensation of the hand feeling up his ass, he was fully erect. He shuddered with the sudden arousal, heat rising in his cheeks and his hips continuing to buck shallowly, enough to show his eagerness to continue, but not enough to look like he was trying to be assertive. Personal slaves had to walk a very fine line, particularly when they did not know what their master liked yet.

"Ah-! Ahhh…." he moaned softly as the finger pushed inside him, feeling him out, and the hand was mournfully removed from his cock, which twitched in its absence. He didn't dare complain aloud though. Some masters wanted the begging, some wanted silence, and until he knew which was desired, it was safer to go with silence, lest he appear needy or demanding. Instead, he focused on the finger probing him, clenching his muscles around it to make himself seem all the tighter and entice the man further. His cheeks a deep red, Arthur glanced over his shoulder to watch the master's hand at work, or at least as well as he could.

Resisting complaint was harder when the man took both hands away, but Arthur remained silent, fidgeting a bit in his place but showing no other outward signs of need. He merely watched as the ribbon that bound his hands was untied and discarded. The order was given, and Arthur nodded, still keeping his eyes humbly lowered as he brought his legs in front of him and scooted to the end of the bed. The master was tall, so Arthur had to stand to be able to do as ordered. He stood before the other and reached long, nimble fingers up to begin undoing the buttons of the man's shirt. He reached the last one, and gently tugged the dress shirt from where it had been tucked into the trousers. No accidently, his fingers brushed against the man's bare skin as he worked, only to keep the contact and hopefully keep the man enticed.

He didn't shy away from the touch of Arthur's fingers, didn't feel the need to chastise him for the move either, though he knew there were those that would have. He watched though, the way Arthur's fingers moved, the rhythm of his breathing, and every now and again, Alfred's gaze fell down to look lower, taking note of the other's obvious arousal, though he made no motion to do anything about it. Once his shirt was pulled from his trousers, Alfred shrugged out of it, for now, tossing the shirt to the side onto one of the chairs, one hand lifting to rest lightly on the slave's shoulder, though he made no other moves, waiting to see if those small touches would stay once his pants had been discarded. Somehow, he didn't doubt that they would, Arthur had clearly been well trained.

Arthur began to chew on his tongue as he progressed to undoing the man's pants, well aware of the eyes that were focused upon him. But it was out of nerves because he was dealing with a new, unfamiliar master, not out of any particular embarrassment. He was used to being looked at like a piece of meat. He was used to being aroused and left wanting. Some masters were into denying their slaves satisfaction, and being denied improved endurance, so Arthur had much experience with it. The organization which had trained him was very good at covering their bases so that the slaves they produced could please most anyone. The owner himself had designed the training program, and it was his mark that was permanently scarred into the bottom of his foot – a wide "H" or a sideways "I", Arthur was never sure. It was the mark given to those who would be sold and it was subtle, concealable. The slaves who were to be kept had a different marking – a simple snowflake with that same symbol in the center. Many of those who had trained him had born that mark.

He took the weight on his shoulder as a sign to get on with it, and did so, snapping open the button of the man's pants, and lowering the zipper. He slipped the trousers off of the man's hips and eased them down the man's noticeably muscular thighs. At the knee, he let gravity lower them the rest of the way, and stood up, fingertips very lightly tracing the man's leg on the way up, all the way to the waistband of the underwear. He hesitated just a moment, waiting to see if an order would be given to stop there, and then slipped his thumbs under the underwear and lowered it as well.

He let the slave be, forcing his breathing to come out normal despite the urge to suck in breath as the blond's barely there touches slid up his leg. He noticed the pause Arthur had, but didn't hurry him along, just waited, watching. He waited until his underwear was on the ground with his pants, before stepping out of the both, and patted Arthur's shoulder gently. He pressed a quick kiss to the slave's forehead, trying to decide what position was best. It was a hard decision to make- not because Alfred was lacking in ideas, he knew of quite a few, and picking out which he'd like to try wasn't hard. But it was late, he had work in the morning, and as much as he would like to stay up and give Arthur a proper fucking, really see what he could handle (which Alfred was sure was more then he could dish out), he didn't think it was a very good idea now. Deciding on something that would be simple for him, and not cause irritation to burn on Arthur's shoulder, Alfred grabbed the bottle on the nightstand.

"Something easy for tonight," He stated coolly, motioning to the bed, "Hands and knees, Arthur." He took off his socks, throwing them into the pile of his slacks and kicking those aside, before opening the bottle again to get more of the oil, his gaze locked on Arthur as he oiled his hands again.

He found the kiss odd. It wasn't possessive or demanding… or like any kiss he was used to, for that matter. He was not even sure how to describe it. Maybe he was just still getting used to Arthur and so was testing the waters himself to see what he liked? Arthur watched as the man grabbed the bottle of lube again, his cock twitching once more in anticipation of what that meant. He nodded once at the order and climbed back onto the bed, getting on his hands and knees and presenting himself to his new master. All the while, he wondered what was meant by "Something easy for tonight." Did it mean the master wasn't that interested? Or that he didn't have the time? Did "for tonight" mean that he was satisfied with Arthur enough to keep him? Everything was so uncertain in this early stage of things. He glanced back to watch what the other was doing, his face growing flushed with arousal once again as he watched the lube being spread over the man's large, strong looking hands. He bet those hands would leave such marks on him, if spanked or slapped or bruised.

"Nnnghh…." He could not help but moan at the very thought, and he bit his lip to silence himself once more.

Alfred arched a brow as the slave moaned, lifted his gaze from where Arthur's spine curved naturally, to the slave's face, and grinned a little bit, amused. Alfred moved to the edge of the bed, one hand moving to slip his fingers back into the slave's ass, pushing two in, and rubbing at the tight heat he found there, his other hand taking hold of his own cock, spreading the oil over it, making sure he'd be as slick as he could be, as his fingers moved. He thrust them in and out, an imitation of what he planned to be doing himself in just a few short moments, his eyes locked on the way Arthur reacted. Saw muscle jump beneath his skin, listened to the sounds he made, and slid a third finger inside, spreading his fingers wide and twisting his wrist. Resting a knee on the bed, Alfred rubbed his thumb over the tip of his own cock, feeling the building pressure, the growing _want_ as it built up inside him. Moving further onto the bed, he pulled his fingers free and took a tight hold of the slave's hip, holding him still while he pressed the head of his cock against the other's loosened anus. Pushing in slowly, savoring the feel of the other, Alfred held his breathe until he was in fully, letting it all swoosh out, his other hand resting on Arthur's free hip, "Nnn.."

He closed his eyes for a moment, then drew back, pulling out half way, and snapping his hips forward, more roughly then he meant too.

His breathing took on a ragged, stuttered quality as the fingers penetrated him again, spreading and massaging against his walls to loosen him up for what was to come. He turned his head back to face forward, staring down at the pattern on the bedspread and trying not to get too aroused, too quickly. It was another one of those fine lines a personal slave had to walk. You had to get turned on quickly, but you also had to be able to last, unless your master wished otherwise. As the fingers began to thrust into him more quickly, Arthur permitted himself to moan, though it was low and hushed, the sound one might make if they were afraid of being overheard. His ass clenched around the fingers again, drawing them in, pressing tight all around them. He did this rhythmically, following the pace set by the master and letting him know just how skilled and practiced Arthur was. Pleased masters most often made life easier.

He glanced back over his shoulder again and saw the man stroking himself, touching and rubbing and god he was quite the healthy size. Arthur had had larger of course, all part of the training, but the sight of the master's thick cock and the thought that it would soon be inside him was causing Arthur's own length to twitch and leak. He moaned again, louder, but still restrained, and thrust back shallowly against the invading fingers. And then they were gone and he was empty, and he felt his stomach sink in disappointment at that fact, though he knew more was coming. His hips stilled under the master's firm hand and his fists clenched in the bedspread as he felt the other push in. He whimpered and tightened around the cock as much as he was able to without impeding its progress or hurting himself too much. The man's hips snapped, flesh slapping against flesh, and Arthur was finding it harder to keep quiet. "Nnnghh~!" came the have stifled cry, his legs spreading wider, inviting the master to take him deeper and harder.

He couldn't help the moans that slid through him as Arthur's insides clenched around him, tight and equisite. He wrapped one arm around Arthur's middle, and leaned over the slave's back, mindful of the burn, as he held the slave tight, quick to take on a quick, rough pace. He pressed a few kisses along Arthur's undamaged shoulder, and dug his fingers into the man's hip and side, enough that he knew there would be marks left there, let his nails drag against his skin, "F-Fuck," He bit at his lip, rested his forehead on the slave's shoulder, and closed his eyes to focus on the feeling. Arthur was warm beneath him, sweat beginning to slicken his skin, Alfred could smell it mixed with the scent of the oil and sex. He loosened his hold on Arthur's side and moved that hand down to curl it around around the man's cock, feeling the precum, the hard length as it twitched in his hold.

Alfred knew most owners were perfectly content to let their slaves go without getting off. Some even got a kick out of ensuring they couldn't, but he wasn't much interested in doing that. It didn't seem quite as fun if the one under him didn't reach orgasm as well, certainly wouldn't say much for his skill if he couldn't even get a slave trained to be aroused at a moment's notice off. So he gave sharp pumps to match his rhythm, pressed his thumb against the leaking head, "Nnn," He bit lightly at Arthur's shoulder, and licked at his ear, "Cum, Arthur."

He began to gasp and pant as the master's pace picked up, rough and quick and deep and Arthur could feel the pleasure swimming inside of himself. It felt good… really good. In his training, pain and pleasure had so often been mixed that Arthur knew no greater satisfaction than a rough fuck. The sweat that was beading on his skin from the heat of their two bodies was causing his burn to sting and the larger man's strong, bruising hold was so possessive. Arthur could smell the sex in the air, the sound of their skin slapping against each other was echoing in his ears, and every bit of him aroused him further. For years, he had been trained to center his life around sex, and to center sex around pleasing another. To hear his master's sounds of enjoyment meant that he was doing a good job and he was grateful that the master was using him so. The man's body was so hot, so commanding of his own, and he pressed closer than Arthur was typically used to. He was waiting for a lick, or a bite… hoping for the later really, in some darker corner of his mind that he was not fully aware of. But there were just kisses and gentle pressure. Not a bad thing, really, just not what Arthur expected. Perhaps just the one possessive mark was enough to satisfy the master for the time being.

He was not expecting the hand around his cock either. When the master said this would be quick, Arthur had taken it to mean that he was not going to worry about the slave's climax and just quickly reach his own. He was glad of it though, and rocked his hips back and forth, into the man's hold and back against the cock that was ravishing him from behind. He worked his muscles in time to the thrusts, relaxing when the master pushed in and tightening as he pulled out, so that he could give the master as much pleasure as possible. As turned on as he was, Arthur could have gone on like this for some time, up to an hour or longer, if desired of him. His trainers had denied him and worked him passed the point of exhaustion on numerous occasions. But then, as soon as he stopped expecting it, the bite came, light, but enough to send a flash of pleasure-pain down Arthur's spine. It was a weakness of Arthur's, as pain made him want to cum. He bit his lip, trying to focus on his own self-inflicted and therefore less arousing pain instead, in order to hold off his climax. But the command came, and fighting it became pointless and following the order became top priority. He let himself indulge in the man's touch, in the feel of himself being taken, in the wash of animalistic impulses that he had been conditioned to feel, and let himself go. He let out a long, low cry, arching his back and letting his cum spill into the master's hand. His muscles rhythmically spasmed and his mind went blissfully blank, lost in waves of pleasure.

Alfred's eyes squeezed shut as the other came, feeling him arch, and the way his body clenched. The sticky heat of the slaves cum as it coated his hand. The sensation was delicious, and Alfred rode it out with quick thrusts, pressing close to the slave's back, the arm on his hip moving to cross over his chest and hold him tight. His own climax didn't take long for him to find, not with all the stimulus from the slave. He pressed his face against the slave's shoulder and let out a low moan as he came, the hand slick with Arthur's cum clutching at the slave's hip, and the arm around his chest holding him close, tight. The heat and pleasure that washed over Alfred kept him distracted for a few moments, he didn't feel himself leaning on Arthur at first, but when he did he slide away and rolled to lay on his back for a moment, panting, eyes closed.

He laid on the bed for a few minutes, to catch his breathe, then sat up slowly. If there was one thing Alfred had learned in his life, it was that going to bed dirty was just a hassle. The bed was a bit of a miss now, so he didn't hesitate to wipe the cum off his hand and onto the comforter near the foot of the bed. He patted Arthur on the thigh, then moved to the bathroom that was connected to his room to grab a pitcher of water. He cleaned himself off with a wash clothe and the sink, then took the pitcher and another clothe, as well as bottle of ointment from when he'd burnt himself a few weeks ago, and returned to the bedroom. Setting the pitcher on the night table, he slid his glasses back on, and moved the bottle of lube into the drawer, "Come over here, Arthur."

He dazedly felt the other's hold on him tighten, felt the larger man's weight press down on him, and he bore it without complaint. He continued to rock back, though his own end was met, until he felt the distinctive final thrusts that indicated the master had reached his own climax. He was sure he could actually feel the release inside of him, could feel the larger man's cum painting his insides, though he might have been imagining that part. He was sensitive, yes, but perhaps not that sensitive. The master smeared Arthur's released seed onto the slave's hip, leaving a sticky mess, but Arthur was used to worse and hardly even noticed it in the glowing aftermath of orgasm. He surrendered himself to the master's hold, completely and utterly his and content with the fact. The hope that this master was pleased with him and would keep him fluttered though his mind amid the haze of sex.

He panted, trying to catch his breath, feeling the man's weight press heavier on him. It was a bit more difficult to remain on his hands and knees like that, for he was temporarily weakened with after-sex lethargy, but he continued to bare it until the master rolled off of him and onto the bed and Arthur himself was able to flop offer, lying on his side on the spot and trying to take up as little space on the bed as possible while his limbs rested. He felt warmth spread through him at the pat to his thigh. That meant a job well done, right? The master was satisfied with his performance. That was reassuring. With no orders to do otherwise, Arthur remained where he was, listening as the master went to clean up. Arthur figured he would probably get a chance to do the same in the morning and was actually confused when the master returned with water and a washcloth, though he was obviously already clean himself. But of course… this was a much fancier place than the slave training quarters. The master would not want him messing anything up and making the place smell like sex and sweat. He ignored the protest of his limbs and slide off the bed to stand beside his owner as commanded. One did not presume he had permission to sit if his owner was standing.

Arthur moved quickly enough, and Alfred was pleased with that. Alfred, himself, had never owned a personal slave, he didn't know how most people were supposed to treat theirs, and could only go by what he'd seen. He knew some people, some business associates of his even, who were very rough and cruel to their slaves, and others who pampered them completely. Regardless, Alfred took very good care of what was his, and he had no intention of treating Arthur poorly in any regard. He wet the clothe, twisted it so it didn't drip too much, then began to clean the mess that had been left over the slave's thighs, first in front, then turning him slowly to clean along his back as well. He pressed a soft kiss at Arthur's shoulder, and cleaned the mess he'd left on the slave's hip. He rinsed the clothe off, and when it came back clean, he very, very carefully cleaned the burn, barely touching, just trying to get the sweat off of it.

"In the morning, you can take a bath," He stated coolly, dropping the clothe into the water, and picking up the bottle he'd brought with him. The ointment was cool and had a strong medicinal smell, he spread it over the burn carefully, but liberally, making sure that it covered every bit of blistered and pink skin, "And one of the others will help you tend to this, so it won't hurt so much."

He was fully prepared to be instructed to clean himself off, and thus was surprised when the master began doing it himself. He tried to find the motivation behind it. Perhaps it was something the master enjoyed, or maybe it was part of some fantasy of intimacy. In any case, it was the only unfamiliar thing they had done thus far and it brought a blush to Arthur's face that was, for the first time, embarrassment and not arousal. It was so odd for a master to be treating him so gingerly, with such care. And the soft kiss that came with the cleaning, even though the sex was over… It was bizarre and Arthur could not understand it. But he still tried to be obedient, and moved as he was instructed, spreading his legs so that the other could more easily work and turning when urged to do so, all the while his lips pressed to a tight line. He could not help but cringe a bit, before regaining his composure, when the master began cleaning the burn, and again, when the cold ointment was applied. It hurt at first, mostly while it was being touched, but after the master pulled his hand back, Arthur found it did not hurt as much as before. He found it hard to believe that the master would waste good medicine on him. He could still function and it wasn't like he was sick in a way that could spread to others. This master was an odd one… but not in a bad way at all. He blushed a bit more and nodded his acknowledgement of the man's words. And he believed he should probably express his gratitude as well. "Thank… thank you, master…"

He had noticed the blush, and had to admit he liked the way it looked. He knew it wouldn't be something easily brought out, but he liked knowing he'd caused it and not with sex. He closed the bottle, making a note to buy some tomorrow before coming home. He wasn't sure what the rooming situation was supposed to be, he knew one of his friends slept in the same room with his slaves- (but Francis was... well, French.), his own father's personal slave had had his own room, who he'd been kept in whenever they weren't out. Alfred didn't much like that idea, for tonight, he thought, he'd take a note from Francis, and figure out the rest in the morning. "You'll sleep here for tonight." He motioned to the bed again, "Get comfortable."

Alfred picked up the pitcher, and bottle of ointment, taking them back to the bathroom. Pouring the water out, he rinsed the pitcher, and left the clothe in the sink to be dealt with later. He washed his face one last time, stared at his reflection for a long moment, as if he could find the answer for some question he didn't know there, before returning to the room.

Sleep here? On the bed? He blinked, almost sure he had heard wrong. Slaves didn't share beds with their masters… at most they might sleep on a cot or floor bed in the same room. Slaves were summoned when their master had an animalistic need, and were sent away when it was satisfied. That was how it was supposed to work, that was what he had been told to expect. Stories of masters that fell asleep with their slaves in the same bed were only the subject of jokes. Talking about sad old widowers or those who couldn't find or keep a wife. They weren't supposed to be like this man, with his odd kindness and good looks and strong sexual prowess. None the less, an order was given. Arthur nodded with another "Thank you, master," and slide onto the bed as the man left the room. Figuring that the master probably slept on the side closest to the nightstand, Arthur slide over to the other side and pressed close to the edge, again, trying to take up as little space as possible. He stayed on top of the covers and rested his head lightly on the pillow, as if at any moment, the master might come in, laugh at him for thinking he was serious, and order him off.

Alfred came back into the room, and moved around to the side of the bed with the night stand. He took off his glasses off for the second time that night, and left them on the nightstand. He pulled the blankets on the bed back a bit, "You can get under the covers Arthur." He stated, watching the slave, lips pulled into an amused grin. This seemed to really confuse Arthur, so Alfred made a note to have a room made up for him tomorrow. There were plenty of rooms, and only the master bedroom they were in now was occupied on this floor. The room beside his could be easily made up for Arthur, which would keep him close, which Alfred felt was better for now. He sat on the bed, and waited a moment longer before turning the light off. He pulled the blankets in his hand up over his front, and settled.

He was not told to move. He was not told to get off the bed. All of this so went against everything he had expected from ownership. Was it going to stay like this? Was this just the master getting used to the idea of having a slave around? It was nearly overwhelmingly confusing. After a moment's hesitation, he slipped under the covers so as not to seem rude or ungrateful for the master's generosity. He had not laid in a bed like this since…. Well, ever. Even when he had lived as a free person with his family, his bed had been little more than a crudely stuffed mattress with a patchwork blanket. This was the exquisite bed of a very wealthy person, and just being in it when no sex was expected made Arthur feel very out of place. "Thank you, Master…" he said again, and curled up on the bed's edge as the light flicked off, his behind angled up so that he would not leak the master's seed onto the sheets. He could not really settle down, though, comfortable though the bed was. He just felt he didn't belong there and that any moment now, the master would realize that too, and push him off to his proper place.

Even with as small as Arthur tried to make himself, it was odd to sleep on the bed with him. Not that it was particularly different from sleeping alone. The slave seemed so determined to be as small as possible, to not even be there, that Alfred had to wonder if he was even breathing. He understood why Arthur was doing it, that was no guess, but it was still odd. Even so, Alfred fell asleep easily enough, having been exhausted before he'd even gotten to his bedroom at all that evening. He slept rather easily, for once in his life didn't toss and turn, as if having another body in the bed made him stay mostly still.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I own nothing

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It was the alarm clock that woke Alfred in the morning, nearly six AM, which felt far too early for his late night. Groggy, and for a moment confused, he turned it off and blinked blearily at the ceiling. For a moment, he'd forgotten about Arthur altogether, until he sat up and spotted the mop of tawny blonde hair, and followed it to the rest of Arthur. Rubbing at his eyes tiredly, Alfred grabbed his glasses off the nightstand, and slid out of the bed, stretching, and glancing around to look for where all his clothes had ended up the night before, since he'd not spent a great deal of time worrying about it.

Arthur startled when the alarm went off and blinked several times before he remembered where he was. As the body next to him began to move, he stayed still, curled up, lanky arms wrapped around himself. He'd slept lightly catching a few hours rest. A fair night's sleep by his standards. He listened to the other move, felt the weight of him lift from the bed, and figured he should rise, to, lest the master think him lazy. He disturbed the covers as little as possible as he slide from the bed and stood. He was rather hungry and he needed a bathroom, but his body's needs came as a distant second to the needs of his master. With eyes kept low and cautious, he turned to face the direction of the man, the bed between them, and gave a submissive bow. "W-what does the master wish of me this morning?" he asked in a low voice. A good slave must be attentive.

Alfred had not meant to wake Arthur, though he supposed he shouldn't be surprised that he had. He turned a little and stared at the slave for a moment, contemplatively. It was odd, to think of allowing someone else being woken with him, usually the only other person in the house who woke as early as Alfred did was Kiku, who woke and made breakfast for everyone in the morning. By the time Alfred was leaving, everyone would be finishing breakfast and starting their chores. He wasn't sure, at first, what to think of Arthur, what to do with him.

"For now, go in the bathroom and run the shower, after I've taken mine, you can take one as well." He stated, flippantly, trying to remember what all he had to do today. There was meeting at some point, but without coffee, he couldn't bring himself to think clearly enough to remember who it was with or why.

It seemed to take a while for the master to come up with an order for him. Was this man so unaccustomed to a personal slave? As wealthy as he must be, given the lavish surroundings, surely Arthur could not be his first experience with one? He gave a submissive nod and walked briskly to where the bathroom was. He blinked at the piping and knobs, used to much simpler showers himself, but after a moment or two of turning them (and nearly scalding himself in the process) he had the water set on what seemed to Arthur like a comfortable temperature. He made sure that there was soap and shampoo available, and a washcloth. He found the clean towels and hung one neatly on the rack. And then he stepped from the bathroom, standing by the side of it with his head lowered to signify that all was ready.

While Arthur disappeared into the bathroom, Alfred kicked his clothes from the night before into a pile by the bed to be picked up after he left, and went about picking out his suit for today. This is something he'd likely, eventually, leave to Arthur, but for now, he picked out his clean clothes, and laid them out on one of the chairs. He noticed Arthur coming out of the bathroom, and turned to look at him for a moment, before turning his attention back to the clothes he'd laid out, "Arthur, were you given clothes on the way here?"

He'd be getting the slave new clothes, even so, but for today, it would be good to know if Arthur had something he could wear now. Alfred didn't like the idea of him wandering the house nude, it would be easier if he had something to cover up with.

Arthur glanced up briefly at the question before lowering his head again. "I…. no, master… I have nothing…" He had been brought from the slave trainer directly to the house in his standard issue clothes from the facility – which were little more than a shirt that was too big for him and shorts that were too small. He'd been stripped and prepared with the ribbon and left in the master's room. "I had some from the trainers'…. But I don't know what happened to them. They were taken away when I was left here for you." He didn't really mind being nude. He was accustomed to it. For his purposes, he didn't really need clothes. They just got in the way when one's master decided he wanted sex.

Nodding, Alfred glanced back at his own closet. Arthur was small enough that one of Alfred's larger shirts, maybe one of the ones he wore when he was tinkering with some gadget or other, would likely cover Arthur enough for now. "Alright then." He made his way towards the bathroom, and paused as he went passed Arthur. Turning a little, he let his gaze run over the blonde for a moment, "I'll be at work most of today, after, you and I will go into town and get you some clothes." As the words left his lips, he moved into the bathroom, not quite closing the door behind him as he went.

Keeping his eyes down, he glanced in the master's direction, to show that he was listening. He felt the eyes on him again. He thought maybe he would be asked to join the master, to wash him, or dry him, or give him a blowjob to start the day. He was not really expecting the master to be so eager to get him into some clothes. He wondered if he didn't live up to expectations or if this master were more…prudish and conservative than he had been lead to believe most masters were. He had time to utter a "Thank you, master-" and nothing else, for the master had disappeared into the bathroom, mostly closing the door between them. Arthur gave a quiet sigh and remained where he was. He thought clothes were likely unnecessary, but that was the master's decision, not his.

Alfred made quick work of the shower. There was more to do today then usual, so he wanted to get moving. He scrubbed away the sweat and grime that had formed from the night and day before, washed his hair, and was quick to dry off. He left the shower running, and took a little longer in front of the mirror shaving and getting his hair mostly styled, before he left the room. As he stepped out, he was a little surprised by Arthur being exactly where he'd been before, and rested a hand on his shoulder, a light touch, "You can use the bathroom now. Try not to take too long, alright?"

It did not seem like he had waited long before the master had reemerged, letting a haze of steam out with him. Arthur had realized the man was done, since he could still hear the shower running. But that was true… the master had said that Arthur was to shower as well. If this master was the type to insist on clothes and offer showers, then perhaps Arthur should change his behavior to suit the kind of man this master appeared to be in order to please him more. Experimentally, he leaned into the soft touch to his shoulder for a moment before nodding. "Yes, master". He stepped into the steamy bathroom, wasting no time before stepping into the shower. Though he had set it for the master's comfort, it was too warm for him, and he had to turn the hot water down. He was very quick to wash, soaping up his hands and scrubbing his body with them. He rinsed his hair and debated for a moment whether he was supposed to wash it or not. In the end, he decided that yes, washing one's hair was part of a shower. He took a tiny bit of shampoo and scrubbed his hair, very unused to the rich lather that this high quality shampoo produced. He rinsed and stepped out. He did not see fit to waste another clean towel on himself, so he used the one the master had left. It was damp, but could still do the job.

Pleased by the way Arthur leaned into his touch, Alfred felt a little better as he moved to continue getting ready. He got dressed quickly, before beginning to look through his closet for something that Arthur could wear, at least until breakfast. The shirt he finally pulled out of the closet was big, even a bit so on Alfred, the fabric was soft, and a pale blue color, he'd gotten a while ago, just to relax in, but it had been sitting in the back of his closet for well over a month, untouched. He laid it out on the bed, and sat down to pull on his shoes while he waited for Arthur to come out of the bathroom.

He did not linger in the bathroom longer than he had to. He had not even stopped to take care of his need to pee. Since the master was apparently about to leave, there would be time for that once the master was off. He made sure he was dry enough not to risk dripping on the carpet and turned to leave before catching sight of the brand on his shoulder in the mirror out of the corner of his eye. It was his first chance to actually look at it. He could not see it without the aid of a mirror. It looked worse than he thought it would, blistered and red and angry looking. He could not really tell what the image of it was due to the swelling. The worst part of it though, was that he didn't really know how to feel about it. This marked him as the master's, so it was good. But it was so ugly, so harsh looking, it was hard to associate it with being "good". It was confusing to think about and it made his head hurt. He was glad it was in a place that he couldn't really see. He didn't want to have to think about it that much. He turned his back on his reflection and walked out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom, stepping up to where the master was putting on his shoes. He wanted some task to distract him from his thoughts. "….would the master like me to assist?"

He looked up at the sound of Arthur's voice, letting his gaze flicker over the slave's face for a moment, before he leaned back, "Yes, I would." He rested his hands on the arm rests, and watched Arthur. It was odd to let someone help him do something as simple as getting his shoes on. He had asked Arthur to help him undress the night before, but it had not been as if he'd needed help with the task, just that he'd wanted to see the other move, get a better look at him,and what better excuse? Even so, he bit back the odd feeling, and stayed still while Arthur did up his shoes. When the other was done, Alfred rested his hand on Arthur's head, "I left a shirt on the bed, it should be long enough, I'd like to you wear it today while I'm gone, alright?"

The slave kneeled down on one knee and focused on the task at hand. The master's socks were already on, so Arthur only had to assist with the shoes. Gingerly, he lifted one of the man's legs and slipped the expensive looking shoe upon it, letting it rest against himself while he used both hands to tie the laces. He had to think for a second about how to do it. He didn't wear shoes very often either. But he managed to remember and moved on to put on the other shoe. When he had finished and set the master's foot back on the floor, the man's hand had come to rest on him, as if acknowledging a good job. The master seemed to like to reinforce good behavior. And that was quite fine…. Arthur nodded. "I will do as you say, master."

Alfred smiled, couldn't help it. For a moment, he ran his fingers through the slave's damp hair, before getting up. Patting Arthur on the head, he motioned to the bed with his other. "Put that on, and we'll go have breakfast." He could feel the growing need for coffee, and when he glanced at the clock it was a bit later then he'd thought it was, which was very troublesome, he'd probably have a bit of trouble for it. But, his gaze slid over Arthur one more time, and he decided it was worth it for this one day. Tomorrow, he wouldn't have work at all, so he could make up for the lost sleep, and perhaps get to really try his new slave out, for today, work, then shopping.

He liked the way the master smiled. For more than just the fact that it meant the Master was pleased with him. It made him feel a bit warm inside, even though he was slightly chilled due to his nude state and damp hair and skin. Turning, Arthur followed the master's gesture to the offered shirt. It would be big on him, he could tell right away. But it hardly mattered. Arthur was very used to clothes that did not fit properly. He was fairly sure he had never worn any. Well... maybe when he was much younger and his family had not yet been in debt. But that seemed a lifetime ago.

He was hungry, so the prospect of breakfast was good. He took little note of the fact that the master was looking him over - that's what Arthur was there for, after all - and picked up the shirt, sliding it on easily. It was baggy and hung down to mid thigh and would be perfectly functional for the day, as well as leave easy access in case the master got frisky again. Though Arthur did not know what he was supposed to do with himself while the master was away... perhaps he would be told while on the way to breakfast.

Alfred'd been right about the shirt, it was a good size to keep Arthur adequetely covered for the day. In the evening, when he was back from work, before they went to shop, he would find adequete pants and shoes. To be inside, Arthur was fine.

Once Arthur was dressed, Alfred got to his feet, and moved towards the door. He motioned for Arthur to follow, and led the slave through the sitting room, into the hall, and then down the stairs. Alfred took him to the kitchen. Since he had the house to himself aside from the slaves, he rarely bothered with the dining room, lest there were guests.

Kiku was already finishing breakfast for Alfred, and there was enough for two there. Alfred pulled a chair out for Arthur to sit in, before calling Kiku over. The asian male moved silently, and bowed to Alfred at the waist, offering the usual morning greeting, "Ohaiyo, Master Alfred."

Alfred nodded, offering a smile. "Kiku, this is Arthur. Arthur, Kiku runs the house, if there's anything you need while I'm away, you can ask him."

Arthur had not been able to fully take in the scope of the house when he had been brought in the previous night. It had been dark and Arthur had taken special care to keep his eyes humbly glued to the ground as he did not know the station or standing of the men who were handling him. He still did not know who they were to the Master. He'd only heard something about his being a gift and that he looked rather nicely fuckable with just that ribbon on.

But now daylight shown through the windows, and though he was careful to keep a few steps back from the master, he lifted his eyes to take in the magnificently adorned walls and the luxurious rugs and the expensive looking furniture. He had been brought to a very fine house and the master was obvious quite wealthy. Arthur wondered how many other slaves were here. Probably dozens. He may only be expected at the master's bed once a week or so. Though he hardly knew what he was supposed to do with himself in the time between meeting the master's needs.

He met the first such of the other slaves in the kitchen. A strange man with an accent Arthur took a moment to grasp. He kept his eyes lowered and bowed respectfully to the senior slave. "T-thank you. I'll try not to be any inconvenience..." The last think he wanted was to get on the bad side of the resident slaves. He would likely interact more with them then the master.

Arthur was so polite that Alfred found himself quite amused. It was rather cute.

Alfred took a seat, and waved for Kiku to get food for both of them. While Kiku went to do that, Alfred turned slightly to look at Arthur, sizing him up a little. The man was so slight, he looked like he'd break so easily, it was actually a little unnerving.

"Do you know how to read, Arthur?" Alfred asked. He knew a fair few of the household slaves could not, and it was not something often taught to those who were bred. It wasn't a needed trait in a slave. But he was searching for something Arthur could do that was not cleaning or minial chores around the house.

Arthur perked up a bit at the question, looking up at the master with a small look of surprise. It wasn't the sort of thing he expected to be asked. "I... yes I do, Master." He'd learned in his youth. He'd only owned a few books, but he had read every used newspaper and discarded magazine that he could find. Though the last few years or so, he had not had cause to read much. He didn't know if this was a valuable skill in a personal slave or not. It had not been one of the things covered in his training.

The food that the Asian man was cooking did smell wonderful though... It was a bit distracting. Arthur had not eaten since the previous afternoon and his stomach was churning in hunger. He wondered what he would be given to eat here. It had never been much at the slave trainers. Breakfast gruel... bread for lunch... watery soup for supper. What he was smelling now certainly didn't smell like any of that.

Offering a very bright smile at that, Alfred nodded, "For today, I'd like you to stay inside the house, tomorrow, I'll show you the grounds, where you can and cannot go. There is a library, here in the house, if you would like to put it to use."

Alfred looked back up at Kiku, who was bringing over two plates filled with food. Bacon, eggs, toast, it was nothing spectaular, but it was plenty. As soon as the food was set down in front of them, Kiku walked away to get a hot cup of coffee for Alfred.

Alfred had already started to munch on the bacon, though his eyes latched onto the coffee like he'd been dying for it. When Kiku set it down, he immediately took hold of the hot mug, and nearly burned himself taking a big gulp. "Thank you, Kiku."

Alfred wiped at his mouth with his hand, "Arthur will need a room set up for him, one of the ones in my wing, can you handle that?"

Kiku seemed to think this over, mentally going over everyone's schedule, before nodding, and giving a soft, "Of course, Master."

Arthur blinked, unsure he was hearing correctly. Was he to be mostly free to move around the house and grounds? Would he really have a library for his own use. Surely... surely he was misunderstanding. No way that a master would give a slave, especially a new one, that degree of freedom.

He had not even recovered from the shock of what he was hearing when what seemed to him like an enormously overloaded plate of food was placed before him. He almost didn't recognize the items before him, it had been so long since he'd seen them. Toast was not so odd... But eggs and meat... these were rare to him. Even before he was a slave, these were often out of his family's price range on most days. The smell of it was nearly overwhelming and made his mouth water. But he was still hesitant to dig into it, hungry as he was. He still could hardly believe that this food was for him for one. And his master had not yet given him permission to sit or eat yet. It was still possible that he'd jumped to conclusions. Maybe someone else lived in the house and that's who this food was meant for, and Arthur would be expected to wait until the Master had finished and left before being given a breakfast more fit for a slave. He didn't want that to be the case. But it was better to expect the least, than to be disappointed or shocked by reality.

He furrowed his brows and kept his eyes downward cast as he stood there, listening to the master make plans. A room of his own, too? This all seemed like too much... too good to be true. It made him a bit nervous because he was expecting a bomb to drop at any minute. Like they were planning to hunt him for sport or use him in the perverse slave shows. There was no way he could be spoiled so as a simple personal slave...

As Kiku walked away, Alfred noticed that Arthur hadn't even sat down yet. He turned a little to glance at him, looking him over, the pulled chair next to him out a little. "Sit down and eat, Arthur."

None of things he was offering seemed odd to Alfred. The slaves that could read were allowed to use the library, as long as they were very careful with the books. Many of them had rooms of their own, though the rooms in the slaves quarters were much smaller then the room Arthur would have. They were all fed well. Happy, and healthy slaves made life easier.

Alfred had never dealt with an untrained slave- even if he had one, he had no worry about a slave attempting and succeeding in escaping. So it didn't even cross his mind to be worried. Arthur seemed so well behaved anyway. "I'll show you the library before I leave for work."

He was stretching his morning a little thin- but he was the boss, so he could afford to be a little late once in a while. No one would mind, he was sure, and he had no meetings until the afternoon.

Arthur blinked again at the master and blushed slightly, feeling a bit embarrassed about his own confusion. There were not a great many things that could embarrass him anymore, but not knowing how he was supposed to behave was one of them, particularly when it was something as simple as breakfast. But this...this just flew in the face of all his expectations. He was never trained to prepare for his own room and full meals and a master that spoke to him so kindly.

He nodded and sat down finally, tentatively eyeing the plate before him. He was sure he could not eat all of that... Though part of him really wanted to try. He was famished and who knew if he would continue to see such meals? Maybe this was only because it was his first day.

He glanced again in the master's direction, nodding at his statement. "I would... I would very much enjoy that..." He wasn't even sure how to properly respond. "I am... most grateful for Master's generosity..." He meant it, but he wasn't sure he was showing it enough. He picked up his fork, which was much finer than anything else he had used before, and took a bite of egg. It practically melted in his mouth. His stomach growled for more and he was happy to oblige, shoveling food in as quickly as he could while still keeping his manners.

Alfred watched the slave sit down, nodding in response to the man's words. It struck him that in normal cases slaves didn't eat as well as their master, but Alfred didn't see a reason. They worked hard around the house, and a healthy meal was important. He liked to make sure everyone's needs were met.

He grinned, as Arthur actually began to eat, and turned his attention to his own meal. It didn't take long for him to finish his plate completely, and down his first cup of coffee for the day. Kiku took his plate, and refilled Alfred's cup half way.

Alfred gave him a nod of thanks, and began to drink it, while Kiku returned to the stove to begin making breakfast for everyone else in the house. They would all be waking soon, and need to eat before getting their chores started.

Arthur was only halfway done with his meal when he began to regret eating so much so fast. His stomach just wasn't used to that much rich food. He had to set his fork down and stop, even though it was easily the best tasting food he could ever remember eating. He was going to have to remember to compliment the other slave... Kiku was his name... on preparing such a delicious meal. He wondered if the leftover could be saved for him for later.

He settled his hands in his lap, pulling the oversized shirt down a little, more for the sake of warmth than modesty. Even with the kitchen stove going, it was a bit drafty. He wondered how long the master would be gone today... and if he would really be allowed to kill the time in the library. He admitted that would be nice...

Seeing Arthur had finished with his meal, and knowing he was running late, Alfred finished what was left of his coffee quickly, and stood up. "If you're done, Arthur, I'll show you to the library now."

He had to stop in his office on the way to the library to grab his briefcase as well. His mind was quickly going over his work for today. He had only one or two meetings later in the day, but lots of paperwork, and he wanted to work on a few little gadgets he'd begun designing- he always had a couple of interviews with a few possible personal assistants.

Once Arthur was standing, Alfred motioned for him to come along. He led the way out of the kitchen and into the hall. "The upstairs is mostly bedrooms, there's a living room back that way," He pointed in the directio. Behind them, "And a sitting room in the very front of the house. If the door to a room is unlocked, feel free to explore. The only room on this floor that is off limits is my office."

As they passed it, he motioned to the closed cherrywood door. Then continued on, he opened the door to the library, and held it for Arthur, motioning for him to enter. There were more books then Alfred would likely ever read, since he wasn't much for sitting and reading.

"A lot of them are old, so just be careful with them. You can spend as much time as you like here." Alfred clucked his tongue, and let his gaze sweep over the room, "Some of the others come to read here when they have free time, but it's mostly unused."

Arthur glanced towards the master and nodded to confirm that he was finished. It was so strangely kind of him to even ask... He stood and when Master indicated for him to follow, he did, trailing a few steps respectfully behind. He was curious about what the master did in order to be this wealthy... but he didn't want to ask. He would probably figure it out on his own if he was observant enough. That, or he could just ask one of the other slaves later.

He took careful note of where everything was, trying to memorize the layout of the house. It was large enough that he could easily get lost if he wasn't careful, and he did not want to end up somewhere he wasn't supposed to be... even if it did sound like he had almost free range of the house. He took special note of the office though, memorizing the look of the closed door. If the master mentioned it specifically, he must really mean that he wanted that room to remain off limits.

And then they reached the library and as he stepped inside, Arthur could not help but gawk at just how many books there were. More than he had ever seen... more than he had even ever imagined... He could read every day for the rest of his life and likely still not read them all. His eyes trailed over shelf after shelf, trying to take them all in. "Ah... Of course, Master... I will be... very careful, I promise."

Grinning, Alfred leaned back against the door frame, letting his gaze drift over the shelves and books. Most of his attention was on Arthur though. He looked so tiny in that shift, slim and pale, just a bit too thin for Alfred, but that would fix itself as Arthur was here for a while. "Just... stay inside for today. Kiku will introduce you to everyone, I'm sure, and he'll get a room cleaned up for you."

Alfred pushed off from the door jam, and stepped into the room with Arthur. "I'll be done work at around five today. Until I get home, enjoy yourself."

As the master stepped into the room, Arthur turned to give him his full attention. It was only right after being spoiled so this morning. A full belly.. a huge, warm house to stay in... so many, many books at his disposal... Even when the eventual catch came, it could hardly be so bad as to cancel all of this out. He bowed to the Master, his arms humbly folded in front of himself.

"I will do as Master says... I thank Master for his overwhelming generosity and wish him a pleasant day at work. I eagerly await his return..." He was going to have to be extra pleasing for the master that evening.


End file.
